Traded?(O2187)

[Joe Bruiser]

In reply to Great News....http://gcwadmin.proboards107.com/index.cgi?board=mayhem&action=display&thread=1202097566

Joe is seen walking down the hall towords his locker room. He had just gotten done hanging out with Nicole Storm and her daughter Denise. They were having Ice Cream and a bunch of other fun stuff. He gets to his locker room and notices.........a note STABBED into his door with a knife. Oh boy, this could mean trouble. Joe removes his sunglasses with his left arm and rips off the paper with his right arm. He reads it, and it says..........



Joe has a WTF? look on his face as he balls up the paper in the palm of his hand. He unlocks his door and walks in, shuts the door, and walks over to his rolly chair. He spins around in his rolly chair to get onto his Laptop that sits at a desk over in the corner. Joe gets onto GCW.com and logs into his Personal Account. He sees a few emails on there as he goes down the list.

[glow=blue,2,300]Nicole Storm.......Mom & Dad.........Bruiser Productions...........Nike........wait, NIKE? DUDE now that is cool. Rebook..........oh boy. Ironman...........wait, the sunglasses company? Huh, interesting. Ahhhhh Amanda Wallace. Lets see if it says what I think it will say.[/glow]

Joe clicks the link and it opens to..............

"This just in... MayheM General Manager Silvia Banks and Lock Up! General Manager Kimberly Masters have agreed to the roster trade of Andrew Rose and Joe Bruiser. Rose is now a member of the Lock Up! roster and Bruiser is now a member of the MayheM roster, effective immediately."

Joe smiles.

[glow=blue,2,300]That son of a bitch is mine.[/glow]

That SOB being 187. Joe looks down and un crumbles the now wrinkled paper that 187 left him. He reads it one more time and smiles. He crumbles it back up again and shuts his Laptop. Joe heads out the door with the piece of paper still in his left hand. He shuts the door behind him as he makes his way to behind the stage. He tells the music guy to QQQQQQQQQQQ his music. Eye of the Tiger hits over the arena and Joe makes his way out onto the stage in front of a big crowd. Joe smiles and does his signature spin on the stage. He is wearing a sky blue muscle shirt and his normal blue shorts. He makes his way down the ramp and into the ring where he taunts for a few seconds. He receives a Mic from a ring worker and speaks.

[glow=blue,2,300]Now I hate to say to all you fans, but I am not in the mood for one of my famous WASSUP PEEPS Intros tonight. I apologize first and foremost, but I am afraid that I have been traded to MayheM. No, that is not a bad thing, but it would of been nice if I would of been told about it before hand. I got to pack all my shit and move toe MayheM locker room from the Lock Up Locker Room. Change my sign, get a new room, and other shit like that. But what worries me the most if did Amanda Wallace and the board of directors make the right decision?[/glow]

Joe pauses as the fans stay quite.

[glow=blue,2,300]I say that because of this..........[/glow]

Joe holds out the note.

[glow=blue,2,300]This here is none other then a THREAT from 187 himself.[/glow]

Fans scream.

[glow=blue,2,300]This note right here, should be..........confiscated by the police. But 187 would do like the ol Ice Cube Song. "FUCK THE POLICE" But that will be saved for another time I am afraid. But for this time period, let me call out the one and only KING OF 911. ONE..........EIGHTY..........SEVEN. We have some business to deal with.[/glow]

Joe lowers the Mic and waits for that ol so familiar music to hit over the arena.

[m]

...And he was not one to disappoint. Time for that murda, murda. Hit that music. The Game's Murda begins to flow out the PA system. And on cue, out comes Tha Infamous one, 187, out to meet the cheering fans. Stepping out onto the stage. Smirk on his face. The fans chanted that ever so familiar name through out the arena. "1-8-7! 1-8-7! 1-8-7!" echoes. Nodding his head. He looks at the rat in the ring. His eyes drawn to the piece of paper in his hand. Oh yeah. His note. The rat must have pissed in his shoes when he read that. He walks down the ramp. Reaching out as he walks. Slapping high fives with the fans who reached over the guard rail. Then he would would over then walk over to the side of the ring. Walk up the stairs. Onto the ring apron. Climb into the ring. Slipping through the ropes. Standing there infront of the rat. He lifts a hand up. Waving it across his neck. Using his free hand to reach around behind him. Grabbing a microphone sticking out of his back pocket. His music cutting off at the sight of him motioning for it to be shut off. Standing there infront of the rat. He smirks. Lifting the microphone up to his lips. He begins...

"So... We have this bastard here... Still running his mouth... After properly... And thoroghly... Getting his punk ass kicked all around St. Louis, Missouri. Goddamn man... Haven't you learned your lesson the last time? Haven't I beaten it into you yet... That you can't beat me? Come on now Bruiser. You should know by now that you don't stand a chance anymore. You don't stand a chance in the ring against me. It's simple. You can't beat me. I don't know how much more simply I can make it for you. I really don't know how much I can break it down for you. You can't beat me. No matter how hard you try... No matter how many times you come.... For future reference... You can't and you won't be able to beat me. Period."

His eyes are drawn back down to the letter in the rat's hand.

And what's that...? A letter? From a possible 187 fan? Hmmm? Is that what you got there? One of my millions of 187 fans sending you a letter to tell you the exact same thing I am telling you right now. Is that what that is? Then it should be pretty clear by now. Recieving verbal and written confirmation that you don't stand a snowball's chance in hell in the ring with me anymore. I know it. That letter tells you that the fans know it. It's hard to make this any clearer than it already is."

He laughed to himself.

"Well.. Anyways... I'm here now... You called me out here... So.... Whatcha want from me...? Another proper snap of the neck? A good stomping into the mat? Maybe for me to punch yer lights out? What is it you want?"

[Joe Bruiser]

[glow=blue,2,300]I can't beat you? Just who in the world are you kidding? Yourself? I DAMN sure know that you aren't trying to fool these FANS OUT HERE.[/glow]

Fans cheer loudly.

[glow=blue,2,300]Not just me but these FANS ALSO know that I have beaten you JUST AS MANY TIMES as you have beaten me. But then again, if I challenged you to a boxing match, you would go down like Mike Tyson in his old age. WITH ONE HIT. Remember my quote 187? Of course you do, 2 Hits is all it takes, 1 hitting your jaw and you hitting the floor.[/glow]

The fans scream as Joe smiles.

[glow=blue,2,300]Now THIS............[/glow]

Joe holds out the paper.

[glow=blue,2,300]Some 187 fan just SOOOOOOO happened to STAB THIS ONTO MY DOOR? Are you high or something? wait, don't answer that. Already know the answer. Anyways, first of all FANS are not allowed to go near our locker rooms. Unless they were on one of the tours that GCW gives. Bit even then he would of not been able to STAB it onto the door. By the way, in case your wondering why I said he instead of she? Well quite frankly if you had any she fans they would look JUST LIKE YOU. Like the 3 Days Grace song.[/glow]

Joe lowers the Mic and begins to pace as he looks back at 187.


[glow=blue,2,300]You wanna know why I called you out here 187? [/glow]

Joe waits to see if 187 will say anything, but he doesn't.

[glow=blue,2,300]For the simple fact that I want.............a REMATCH.[/glow]

Fans scream as Joe lowers the Mic smiling away.

[m]

"Alright. I'm only going to do this once. I'm going to break down your response real quick. And show you exactly how moronic you just sounded and why GCW should ban you from ever laying a finger on a microphone. Okay. Follow me now. I'm only going to say this once."

Pausing for a moment. He lifts his free hand up. Holding up his index finger. 187 looks at it for a second. Then he holds it up to Bruiser so that he can see it. The fans laughing at what their seeing. 187 raises the microphone and starts...

"One.... I said... That you do not stand a chance... anymore. Keyword now. "Anymore." Remember that. We're not talking about Canada anymore. That is over and done with. And I won that war. We're in the present. We're in the now. You still with me? I'm not slowing down now. I said, you do not stand a chance anymore. Making your comment on how we beat each other null and void. Which means, you need to invest in some kind of hearing enhancing device. Cause you seem to only hear every other word here. And in a boxing match, you'd get that punk ass folded up like an old wallet if they let me box you. Don't even try to kid yourself with that kind of bullshit spewing from your lips."

He sticks up his middle finger now on his free hand. Now holding up two fingers. Indicating he's moving on to the next subject.

"Two... My fans... They come by the truckload. Who're YOU trying to kid? Am I right folks?"

The fans begin to cheer as 187 looks out to them. Some waving their homemade signs they have made to support him. Nodding his head. He looked back at the rat.

"They come in many forms. Hes. Shes. Young. Old. Don't matter what. I don't discriminate. You show your fans love. They show you love back. That's common knowledge. And how in the hell do you know that that letter in your hand was not placed on your door by a fan? You do realize everyone can be a fan right? Anyone and everyone in the world is a fan of something. The janitor could of put it there. He's backstage all day. Random camera man number 2345453454312 could have found himself having free time and stuck it in there. Hell, maybe even one of the staff members did it. You ever think of that? Fans come in many forms Bruiser. Don't assume that fans are only limited by what you see in the stands."

He sticks up his ring finger now. Indicating he's moving onto number three. The third and final disection of Bruiser's comments.

"And as for a rematch... All you had to do was ask. Quit bullshitting and come out and say it for once. Ya know? We don't have to do this song and dance everytime you feel a little mad and your feelings are hurt because I am constantly making you my personal bitch on a daily basis. You want a rematch? Then you got it."

[Joe Bruiser]

[glow=blue,2,300]What? and this conversation so quickly? Now why would I do such a thing 187? We ALWAYSSSSS have so much fun when we come out here. We always put on the BEST show possible for these fans. Young or old THEY JUST CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF THE FRO BABY. So why would I cut this short? Would you of rathered me send you an email? Or send a pigeon? Hell I could get a ring worker to send you the request. But better yet, I could of even went to Miss Amanda Wallace herself to get the match WITHOUT your permission. Now what would Adrian Taylor to? I know what 187 would do, he would me.......[/glow]

Fans go HUHHHHHH?

[glow=blue,2,300]KILL ME........[/glow]

Fans go HUHHHHH again.

[glow=blue,2,300]RAPE ME........[/glow]

Fans go HUHHHHHH, wait what?

[glow=blue,2,300]Oh sorry I thought you were a part of that GAY group, my bad.[/glow]

Fans laugh along with Joe.

[glow=blue,2,300]Let me give you MY version of The SCHOOL OF HARD KNOCKS.[/glow]

Joe lowers the Mic and holds his right hand up. He lowers it as he speaks again.

[glow=blue,2,300]ONE, ANYMORE? How about EVARRRRRRRR.[/glow]

[glow=blue,2,300]TWO, have you not seen MY FROHEADS?[/glow]

Fans scream.

[glow=blue,2,300]There the most DEDICATED FANS that a guy could ever ask for. I wouldn't trade them for ANYTHING. They ALL wear one of my RED FRO'S that I sell here at EVERY SHOW WE DO. They show MORE then enough support for me.[/glow]

[glow=blue,2,300]THREE, One day I will KNOCK............[/glow]

Joe points at 187.

[glow=blue,2,300]THAT FUCKING ATTITUDE out of your head and FORCE you to eat it for BRUNCH.[/glow]

Fans cheer.

[glow=blue,2,300]Now, since you have to be such a JACKass about everything, I WILL BE THE SAME. This is not just a normal match like our times back in Toronto. This match, yes this match, will be BIG. BIGGER then the Eiffel Tower. Hell, it make to big that The Boss may have to let us fight on a PPV at Ceases Palace. Or maybe Madison Square Garden? Hell would it really matter? MILLIONS OF FANS would be screaming BRUISER. BRUISER, BRUISER. And the hand of THE ONE WITH THE FRO, will be raised at he end.[/glow]

Joe lowers the Mic slowly as he waits for a response.

[m]

"Ugh... Somebody get this dude before I slap the shit outta him. "

He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. Getting annoyed by this rat's presence. His voice was bugging him. Fuck it. It won't be long. It won't be long now. Hold yourself back. Wait. Calm down. Don't stab him where he stands. Just wait until you get into the ring. Shaking his head. He lifts his head and lowers his hand.

"Do you honestly think before you speak? Really now... Do you even process thoughts in your brain before you begin to talk? Come on now. They should not even allow you to speak. Someone please. Someone cut his microphone off. "

Shaking his head. Taking a breath. He let out a sigh. Lifting the microphone up again and continues...

"Seriously... The fans... They only support you cause they pity the mentally handicap. That's the only reason you see these red afros in the crowd. It's because they feel bad for you. They feel sorry for you. No one here likes you. It's a pity thing. They feel bad for you. So.... In order to make you feel better... They give you a pity clap. A pity laugh. It's sad how much you don't realize it."

He shrugs his shoulders.

"Some people don't learn I guess.... Now. Please do humor me. What kind of match are you going to supposedly knock my attitude out in? What means of torture do feel the need to put yourself through before I lay your ass across this mat again... And pin your ass for the three count again. Pick your poison Joe. Pick wisely. This could very well be the last match of your career. Get that neck snapped beyond repair and end your career like so many others. So what's it going to be Bruiser?"

[Joe Bruiser]

Joe acts like he wasn't listening.

[glow=blue,2,300]What was that? Sorry my FRO is too loud.[/glow]

Fans laugh.

[glow=blue,2,300]The FRO just glows with such a BRIGHT RED LIGHT, that I was.....mesmerized.[/glow]

Joe laughs along with the fans.

[glow=blue,2,300]Maybe I need a few more of those here BWUUZZAA ENERGY DRINKS.[/glow]

Fans scream.

[glow=blue,2,300]187 my good friend, I am starting to miss that language you use to call ENGLISH. Gangsta? is that what you called it? Huh, not really much of a language you think? Where did that talk go? All dat shit ya said was like da shit homie.[/glow]

Joe laughs.

[glow=blue,2,300]What happened to you? The 187 I KNEW would NEVER talk like a normal human being. Shit, no wonder I didn't understand what you were saying just a minute ago. The FRO had something to with that as well haha. if I had to pick my poison, I think it would be.....a Boxing match.[/glow]

Fans and Joe laugh.

[glow=blue,2,300]Haha but you can't do that in wrestling. One day I will get it to happen, one day. And in that match it will be "THE MARVELOUS" JOE BRUISER, against "THA INFAMOUS ONE" 187. Welcome to my yard bitch.[/glow]

Joe lowers the Mic and looks around the arena.

[glow=blue,2,300]Before you will even have the chance to BREAK MA NECK, I will have already BUSTED YA FACE. I would of already hit the BKO on you. The BRUISER KNOCKOUT.[/glow]

Fans cheer.

[glow=blue,2,300]How about we have...one of the matches that WE BOTH SPECIALIZE IN.[/glow]

Fans await to see what match Joe is talking about. 187 on the other hand, already knows what Joe is going to say. There is only two matches that both Joe and 187 specialize in.

[glow=blue,2,300]A STREET FIGHT.[/glow]

Fans scream as Joe smiles. He awaits the response from 187.

[m]

"What happened to me? What happened to me, you say? Hmm... Well, I thought you know by now Joe. I thought you had already knew what happened to me. Since you happen to be so damn bright... Since you seem to do your research on me.... Since you seem to think you know me... You should already know by now what happened to me... What was it you said again? Hell...? Wasn't that what you claimed I was in....? Before GCW.... Wasn't it Hell that you claimed I should have been in...? Should have been in right now? I believe that was the right location you claimed that I should be in.... Yet... Here you stand... Wondering what the hell happened to me... The past fews months no doubt have changed me...."

He shook his head. The horrors he's witnessed and experienced before GCW... They would make you cry just hearing them. The pain he's felt... You would sit there for years and years... Just wondering how this man was still breathing. Only he knew the truth. Forget what other people think they know. He was there. He felt the burn of the pain through out his body day in and day out for months and months. That was for another time when some curious soul asks him what Hell is like. Now was for another episode of Kill That Boxer.

"You really that stupid that you're willing to throw your life away to get back at me? Are you honestly that pissed off? You're willing to throw yourself away? That's sad Joe. That's real sad. If you really wanted to meet the Reaper that soon... All you would have needed to do was ask. Unfortunately... The fans would not be allowed to watch."

The fans make a disappointed sound through out the arena. 187 nodding his head.

"Alright. I can't deny my fans a good show. Pay per view. Hahahaha..."

Just like that, the fans began to cheer loudly for their favorite wrestler. They didn't know he was being brutally honest. He would kill this rat if it wasn't against the law. But those "animal rights" people would get on his ass in a heartbeat.

"....Hahahaha... Anyways... You really want to face me in a Street Fight? Fine by me Bruiser. Fine by me. I won't mind dragging your damn carcass all around the ring and placing you back in the coffin you belong in. You might remember this line... The only way out... Is in a box. And you Bruiser... I will be your demise if you keep testing me. But since your hurt pride won't let you say no... Say hello to the Reaper."

Lowering the microphone, he holds his arms out. Indicating that he, Tha Infamous 187, is Death. Maybe not literally. But he damn sure was pretty close.

[Joe Bruiser]

[glow=blue,2,300]OHHHHHHHHH well I am SORRY that I wasn't there whenever you ESCAPED FROM THE HOSPITAL OR WHATEVER THEN FUCK YOU DID TO DISAPPEAR LIKE THAT. Did you and Phoenix go on another adventure? Sorry IO didn't get the invite to come along on this journey you had.[/glow]

Joe gets into 187's face.

[glow=blue,2,300]How am I suppose to know what happened to you? You have YET to go public with it.[/glow]

Joe pauses for a few seconds.

[glow=blue,2,300]FANS? I think 187 has some explaining to do.[/glow]

Fans scream and boo as Joe smiles.

[glow=blue,2,300]Don't cha think?[/glow]

Fans scream.

[glow=blue,2,300]Where did you go? Were you in some other country RUNNING from the police here in America? FUCK THE POLICE, isn't that one of your FAVORITE QUOTES? Hell, you have ran away from them on countless occasions. I think I may just be on to something.[/glow]

Joe lowers the Mic as the fans scream. He raises back up after a few seconds.

[glow=blue,2,300]Game, Set, and MATCH. HEYYYYYYYYYY since you have already been to hell and from what I can tell met the Reaper. You would be familiar with Hell already. Cause THATS WHERE I AM SENDING YOU. I AM SENDING YOU BACK.......TO...........HELLLLLLLLLLLLL.[/glow]

Joe lowers the Mic to a screaming crowd.

[glow=blue,2,300]By the way, how is the Reapers foot? last I saw him he had a sprained ankle and had to have Peter Griffin take his place haha.[/glow]

Joe laughs as he waits for 187 to respond.

[m]

"Seriously... Did I hit you THAT hard? Did I? Come on now. You can't distinguish reality from cartoons now? Damn. I knew you couldn't take a punch. That's why you're no longer boxing. But damn... I didn't think I was hitting you that hard. Tried to go easy on you, but guess not. Oh well. Fuck it. "

Shaking his head in disappointment. He thought Bruiser was smarter than that. He knew he wasn't too bright. But come on. Now that. That right there. That was more than he needed to know to establish that Bruiser was now able to legally be pronounced mentally retarded. Or as Buck would say... A Dee dee Dee.

"I thought you knew everything Bruiser. I thought you knew it all. I mean, you somehow found out I was in GCW before everyone else. You somehow managed to scrounge together pieces of my past. You somehow knew I was coming and threw a little surprise party. So... Wouldn't you know where I was? Hmm? Wouldn't ya Bruiser? You seem to have all the answers. You seem to know more about it than I do. You claim you don't know now, but I thought the last time we met in the ring... You knew where I was.

Raising an eyebrow. Paranoia rising. Patience decreasing. Suspicion rising. Anger. Hatred. Calm yourself 187. There's no need to turn that microphone into a murder weapon. Not yet anyways. He took a breath. Letting out a sigh. Calming himself. He continues...

"Going on and on and on about Hell. Going on and on and on about me and the hospital. You seem to know a lot more than you're pretending to. Now... You're saying you don't know? Wouldn't that make everyone's favorite boxer... A liar? Not only are you a rat... But now you're a lying rat. That's sad Bruiser. That's real sad. Mental retardation. Delusional thoughts. Can't tell reality from television. And now you can't tell the truth like some kind of compulsive liar. You really need some help. You really do. Kicking your head in doesn't seem to be the remedy for your sickness. I think we're going to have to go ahead and put you out of your misery. End the suffering. Wouldn't ya say?"